in laps(e)

adam's up at 2:30
to talk to me after rhedyn's
alcohol-free birthday party;

the lion's pride
kept him from
chewing fat off
downed wildebeest.

he loped home and we
chat about whether or not
we would (or had guts to) play
carole king's "anyone at all"
as a bridal waltz,
if we say we picked it
to make our mothers cry (not
because it means something
to us.)

he hasn't even
proposed yet, he talks
about our kids
as though they wait for
us to pick them up
from a friend's house,
from soccer practice,
after-school biology homework make-up.

i talked too; i
thought i had dumped him
in october.

last night i meandered
over to the sports park
behind the high school.

the weather filmnoise
grey, pre-rain.

in the halo 3 hoodie
he sent me, i sat
at a more-than-warped
picnic table, beside
hunter-vest orange
garbage bins, hefty bagged
and chained.

i watched the same
old man, white and folded,
in a red tracksuit
lap the asphalt course

over, and
over.